


Penalty Kick

by captainalston



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Football | Soccer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1951905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainalston/pseuds/captainalston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requisite soccer AU now that the World Cup has ended. Ridiculous fluff about the enterprising team representing the USA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penalty Kick

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies in advance, the only soccer/football knowledge I have is from watching Whistle! like four years ago, so please forgive me as I butcher all the rules and names. In another situation I'd do proper research, but this is a fic written mostly for the fluff and a little bit to console me for Argentina's loss. This whole thing was inspired by how adorably excited team Germany got when they scored a goal today and I just wanted team Jim Kirk to be equally excited by soccer today.
> 
> Don't think too hard about what positions I put people in. If this were a proper AU Bones wouldn't even be on the field, I'd probably have him on the sidelines grumbling about sprained ankles and head injuries. (And I'd find a loophole to stick Uhura and Carol on the field.)
> 
> Warnings in mind, please enjoy!

Leonard's cheek stung, a grassy graze running rough along the right side of his face. The ball raced down the opposite end of the field as he staggered to his feet, favoring his left side where his knee didn't feel like it had just collided with cement. The World Cup had been brutal on the whole team from start-to-finish, but as the second oldest player on the team, Leonard felt he had the most right to bitch and complain, especially after all the diving he'd been doing this game alone. If he'd realized they were going to make it to the finals, he might have retired before the season started.

Scotty wasn't much better off, huffing and puffing as he raced to keep up with the strikers bearing down on their goal. He cut off the mean looking brute with messy, ponytail-hair, and the Scotsman punted the ball long, causing it to sail well past the midfield line. Jim caught it, bouncing it off his chest and trapping it between his feet before passing it to Spock. The German players swarmed and Spock hardly tapped the ball before it was sailing over to Sulu. The unity of their offense was astounding given that last year they were knocked out during the preliminaries because Jim and Spock couldn't keep their bickering off the field. Sulu would hardly speak up when they argued and Jim's relationship with the midfielders was so bad they'd start chewing him out with Spock. Things were so bad Jim had shown up to the second qualifier with a black eye after picking a fight with Hendorff, the biggest midfielder of the lot.

In fact, back then McCoy was the only one Jim seemed to get along with. Leonard attributed this to the fact that he was the other outcast on the team, hated for his grumpy attitude and less-than-optimistic outlook. Hell, they'd hardly had any team unity last year unless people were teaming up to fight with someone else on the team. Only Sulu and Chekov seemed able to have a cordial conversations and those had been awkward at their best.

How they'd managed to make such an extreme 180 in less than a year still confounded Leonard. Nyota's theory was that he and Jim had had a tempering effect on one another, and a tempered Jim did a marvelous job of rallying people behind him. Leonard was skeptical of this theory as hanging out with Jim hadn't made him any less testy or irritable. In fact he snapped faster when Jim was around.

No, he suspected it had more to do with Spock and his mother's sudden death last August. After the car crash no one saw Spock for six weeks until Jim showed up out of the blue with the stoic, depressed man in tow like he'd brought home a stray puppy. Training seemed to do Spock well, though, and Nyota reported back on his conditioning every week saying he looked a little less lost each time. Meanwhile the rest of them came together as a true team. By the time they hit the field again, Jim and Spock were making headlines for their unstoppable teamwork.

"US's golden boys, sure to take the cup!" they'd shout, no matter how much the team moaned not to jinx them. Of course from his vantage point, Leonard would give the credit to Spock over Kirk. Jim might be the one reeling in goals most of the time, but that was due to Spock's tactical sense, setting up plays and assisting Jim and Sulu for the goal.

Either way, by the time the World Cup had come around, they'd gone from "worst bet in the league" to "promising upset" and boy had they ever delivered.

The score had been tied for the past twenty minutes -- one and one -- but as the game moved into extra time, the mood of the field shifted. When the refs stood back there were four more minutes on the clock. The last four minutes of the World Cup.

Germany grabbed its second wind, getting control of the ball and plowing it across the field. They passed it back and forth so quickly, Hendorff, Chekov, and Jacobs had a hard time keeping pace.

Eventually Pavel -- quickest feet on the team -- stripped the ball and pelted it back up the field. There was a solid minute of confusion where the possession kept swinging back and forth between Germany and the US. Hendorff and Jacobs kept weaving across the field, covering each others' positions and then running back to their own. Then, without a word between them they charged the German offense, hoping to push the ball further down the field.

They'd had no idea there was a defender lurking along the sideline. Even from his vantage point Leonard had nearly missed the defender until the sudden pass to the side that looked like an intentional kick out of bounds. Leonard did see him, though. The white uniform against the grassy green. "Scotty! Olson!"

The two sprung to life as the German defender passed the ball forward. Chekov sprinted after the strikers, but they were already several bounds ahead of him, leaving Pavel to trail behind as the three Germans pounded up the field to attack the pitiful defense left behind. Somewhere in the back of his head, Leonard registered the audience shouting out the final countdown.

The biggest of the Germans passed the ball to the redhead, who popped it up to ponytail, who dribbled it around Scotty, then passed it back to the redhead one while Olson charged him, so the redhead -- aw hell.

Leonard charged out of the goal. In the distance he could hear Jim yelling at him, but it wasn't clear if they were words of encouragement or admonishment.

The redhead popped the ball up and Leonard's hand shot out on instinct, batting it back. Then ponytail barreled in behind his teammate, smacking the ball with the flat of his foot. It sounded like a gun shot to Leonard.

Later he can't recall the feeling of moving -- or rather, hurtling himself at the ball -- but he never forgets the resulting crunch, when the ball hit his face like glass beneath boots, squashing his nose; cartilage grinding against itself. He crumpled to the side, arms wrapping around the ball while the whistle was blown. In seconds he was surrounded by his teammates warm hands griping his shoulder.

"Bones! Bones, say something!"

Leonard flopped onto his back, eyes squinting up at the the head fluffy blonde hair. It took him a second to confirm it was in fact Jim Kirk, not Pavel Chekov, who stared back down at him. He frowned and grumbled, "Fuck, that hurt."

Jim threw his head back and cheered, a high-pitched cry of excitement pouring out of his mouth. Within a heartbeat, the rest of the team joined in and the crowd followed suit, drowning them all out. The noise rang painfully in Leornard's ears and blood continued to dribble down his chin, yet some how he found himself smiling along with the rest of his team.

As Scotty and Jim pulled him up, the cheering grows louder. Deafening. Scotty grabbed him around the neck and squeezed him in a hug, then he was passed to Chekov who grabbed him around the shoulders and jumped up and down, screaming something in Russian while he cried. Spock merely gave him a pat on the back and a rare smile, but it seemed to dwarf even Chekov's tears and garbled Russian. Hendorff, Jacobs, and Olson all squashed him in the middle of a four-man-hug, jostling him until he nose started to bleed again. Sulu gripped him by the ears and grinned so wide it had to hurt. Then Jim shoved Sulu off and grabbed Leonard's face himself, grin too wide and eyes too bright. He yanked Leonard forward and kissed him, cheek pressing hard against Leonard's abused nose.

It was over before Leonard even realized he was short of breath. Jim panted, all bright eyes and white teeth. Leonard's ears warmed at the sight and he suddenly scowled, crossing his arms. "Don't go celebrating just yet. We've still got penalty kicks, kid."

Somehow this seemed to be the right response, because Jim started laughing so hard he looked like he was going to puke. Then he pulled Leonard into another kiss, this time more careful how much pressure he put on Bones' nose. Suddenly the penalty kicks seemed a lot less important.


End file.
